


Classical Couture by E. Chen

by Twosetauthor



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Bottom Eddy Chen, Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, M/M, Minor Violence, Sexual Content, Switching, Top Brett Yang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28636950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twosetauthor/pseuds/Twosetauthor
Summary: Eddy Chen is a top fashion designer and owner of 'Classical Couture.' His prestigious company goes on missions for models who are musicians to represent the brand.Brett Yang cant turn down easy money in the hard world of classical music orchestra.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	1. I

Eddy's hands were getting tired.

He had worked all day, hand sewing intricate lace into a bodess for his upincoming title runway show. He had many people working under him in his company, his brand was high class mainstream at this point, 'Classical Couture' was soaring in the industry, Eddy could've never seen this coming from his bedroom with his broken sewing machine and mismatched threads. He was climatised by the competition in business, now that he had comfortably expanded to a millionaires monopoly over his niche.

He made pieces based on classical music. He had always indulged in it, and played the violin and piano from a very young age. Through highschool he self taught clothing manufacture and eventually he was free-handing ball gowns and three piece suits by memory. 

What was unique about this brand, more than any other, was that none of the runway models were professionals, they were all simply musicians willing to do it for some cash and recognition. Sometimes for a thrill. He sent a team to visit rehearsals with plenty or forewarning and ask the question, taking anyone who said yes and bringing their pictures to Eddy to examine. He would pick a couple and refine it in person. 

Only one could wear his showstopping piece. _This one was important._

Eddy sighed and spun in his wheeling chair. Bringing it back over to his work desk, tidied by his secretary. He ran a calloused palm through his hair. Adjusting his glasses and pouring himself a drink of ice tea he had at his left as the jingling of his reciever broke the silence. He pressed down the squarish button.

"Send one in Angela, thank you." He said, and not a minute later a female walked in.

The interview went slowly. She didnt have the inspiration Eddy needed. He had another and another in. They all seemed so.. _dead_. He knew the life of a musician was hard, it showed on their faces. Eddy was also now losing his will to even continue with this batch.

He'd hate to have a non-musician repping the only high fasion music inspired brand out there. 

That'd be bordering on.. _sacrilege_.

The man behind his desk was becoming more frustrated and drained. The bell jingled, announcing a new visitor to his lair. His domain of creation. He would be angry if this last one flopped.

"Hello, Im Eddy Chen, I'm the creator and CEO of Classical Couture. Introduce yourself."   
His opening was the same to all twelve applicants, he prayed the response wouldnt be some rehearsed bullcrap about how great he is once again. The previous eleven were like a repeating nightmare. 

"My name is Brett Yang. I play the violin." The nominee said.

 _Simple_. Straight to the point.

Eddy was nonchalantly examining every feature of the person opposite to assess his modelling prowess. 

"Well Brett Yang, I have a new collection coming and im looking for the title piece, the showstopper to wow the audience. What makes you think you can be the model to do that?" Eddy inquired, jotting things down in such script that he knew Brett wouldnt be able to read it.

"I wear clothes everyday. And im a classical soloist. I dont think theres anything that can happen in a crowd to embarrass me that hasnt happened already." The dark haired male answered back softly.

The timbre of his voice was slightly quiet and restrained but not entirely inward. He didnt seem too shy. 

Good Answer, Eddy thought. He was intrigued, _finally_. 

"Lastly Brett Yang, How much skin are you willing to show on a high fashion runway?" Eddy asked. He could feel it in his gut Brett was the one. He was already imagining him in the pieces of the outfit already complete.

Brett looked like he was considering the question, his fingers drummed his knees with nerves.

"As long as im not completely naked." He hummed, with a small nod.

Eddy's heart soared. Thank the _Lord_ for Brett Yang. He had cut this one close.

"Well Brett, Im prepared to give you this part. This will be globally televised and the runway isnt in Australia, so you'll have to fly with me to the UK, just for the evening. ill be doing your preliminary fitting tomorrow. Runway's in two weeks. Does that sound good?" 

Brett hesitated, maybe this was a bigger deal than he thought. He couldnt back down now, though. He needed the money.

" _Okay_."

Eddy stood out of his chair quickly enough to startle Brett and clasped his hand, shaking it invitingly. 

"I think we'll work together perfectly, Brett."

The shorter nodded again in agreement. Eddy was amused by the way his hair moved when he did so, in a sort of wave.   
The soloist turned to leave and opened the jingling door. Stepping out.

"Hey, Brett."  
Eddy called, before he could leave. 

The new model looked back, a look of curiosity, of life, of nervousness and anxiety bundled up in one that was almost orgasmic for Eddy who had dealt with regularity for the past four hours. 

"Send me a recording of you playing tonight. Anything you like, along with your shoulder, waist and leg measurement, roughly. Thanks _darling_." Eddy smiled flirtatiously.

Brett blushed and disappeared in a flurry. Damn you, _fashion_ _man_.

  
The hours flew by for Eddy, awaiting a recording, but working fervently on his new piece now with the inspiration of the model and the new information. He seemed quite short, and he was a male but he didnt mind showing skin, that was essential. He felt Brett would also appreciate at least a slight bit of class. 

For Brett time was going slow. He was worried. He informed his mom on what he'd be doing, and she seemed elated. She had watched this runway show in the past, which made him even more nervous. He retreated to the bedroom of his apartment, with a ruler. He didnt have a tape measure so he did it all in twelve inch sections. Eddy said rough, after all, it didnt have to be exact. 

He typed all his findings into an email, but didnt hit send. Instead he picked up his Violin. Any piece he liked? His bow hold shook. 

_Stop it._

He took a breath. He thought of Eddy, his boss for the moment. His intense eyes and tidy clothing. He was embellished, like a luxury. Brett felt unworthy in his presence. He needed to play something to convey Eddy's.. _Aura_. 

He lifts his bow to the strings, and begins to play _Mendelssohn Violin Concerto in E Minor, II. Andante._ He doesn't let the nerves get to him. He could feel like throwing up before a performance, or feel like crying after, but when he played everything was serene. He wasn't thinking about what run came next, or what note. Or how he should embellish the finish. He was thinking about Eddy, and concentrating on playing with passion matched to his, though it almost seemed impossible, Brett was determined. 

He recorded for maybe.. fifteen minutes. And didnt proof check it. It was long enough to get into the fast runs and string crossings. He didnt want to do a retake. Pressing send once the video file was attatched. He closed his laptop for the night and flopped into his bed that he hadnt made in the morning. Not even really bothering to undress properly. Just throw off his jeans and unbutton his shirt but not fully remove it.   
He laid awake. Thinking about the weeks ahead. 

Eddy stayed up late into the night. He was adding pieces of tulle and lace to his masterpiece. Shooting up when he heard the quiet ding of his email. He checked the time. It was getting into the early morning. He let down his needle and thread and grabbed his laptop, putting on his removed glasses and walked out the door. Nodding goodbye to Angela, and heading up the elevator to the presidential suite.   
His whole life was consumed by his work. He owned this entire building. He lived on the very top floor, overlooking the sydney skyline. The opera house was in the distance. 

Eddy unlocked his door by keypad and breached the open spaced entry hall, hurrying to the master bedroom. He sat at his vanity desk and opened his laptop. Clicking to read the email to his personal address. Only a select few had this email, he gave it to Brett simply because he had a good feeling about the soloist with the low level of expression.

He glossed over his measurements, broadish shoulders, longer leg length than he expected, okay.

The main event. Eddy opened the video. There was Brett, walking into camera view his gait was relaxed as he nestled his violin under the left side of his chin. 

The music filled Eddy's heart. His legs felt like jelly. He had pins and needles. He could barely blink at the thought he would miss something, Brett swayed back and forth with the music. He seemed extreme and calm at the same time. A hurricane of intensity Eddy wasnt prepared for. He could imagine Brett there. Standing in front of a crowd. Commanding with his music. A first violin he was sure, just not with the cash to go touring, or to break into the big soloist scene.   
Eddy felt his breath speed up. Bretts fingers delicately muted the strings and glissed ellegantly up and down the finger board. He wished this was a live and private performance so the sound wasnt at all effected by his speakers. Even so, the quality was immense. Eddy ran a careful hand up his own thigh from his knee. His face was flushed. 

Bretts music was making him this way.   
You _devil_ , he whispered aloud. His square rimmed glasses were skewed and fell off of his face as he crumpled his eyes closed tightly. He was about to do something formidable to the intense resonance of Bretts rendition. Something he wouldve never dreamed of doing to the thought of someone he'd just met. Let alone a poor musician in need of cash. 

The morning came slowly for both men. Brett dragged himself out of bed to texts of congratulations from other musicians in the orchestra he worked with now, and some old college friends. He put on a light floral patterned silk shirt and some dress pants. Tucking in, with some plain shoes. He listened to _Saint-Saens_ as he dressed and ate some breakfast. 

Eddy was up at the crack of dawn. His house assistant was at his door with a freshly pressed three piece suit in black with red accents. He showered and dressed. His entire home was cleaned by the housekeepers as the shower was done. The millionaire put on some jewelry, and set off downstairs to his office. A coffee was waiting on his desk as he slid into the chair. Blueprints for clothing littered the place but were organised. Eddy couldnt scratch the idea of Brett Yang out of his head. His humility and grace, storming through his world and ripping the earth from the ground.

_Knock-Knock_

The Door. The bell chimed as it opened. Angela stood with a familiar male in tow.

'Brett Yang, sir?' She asked. Seemed he wasnt special to her, she didnt remember his face.

"Yes, Angela. Let him in, he's my front model for the Esteem show on the thirteenth." Eddy confirmed, she looked a little surprised but realised she'd need to commit Bretts face to memory. 

"Good Morning Eddy." Brett said politely. He semed not one for stepping beyond boundaries, but Eddy knew, he could feel the presence of the danger and poise in Brett Yang. 

"Good Morning Brett. Your performance was absolutely invigorating. I had myself leaving it on repeat. Thank you." Eddy smiled with that devilish grin that made Bretts insides burn.

"You're welcome."  
He shuffled awkwardly where he stood. Blushing like flowers blooming across his face in dark tones of pink and red.

"Follow me down here Brett, ill get to fitting you personally. Id usually make someone do this for me, but this is different. You're too important to be handled by anyone else." 

  
Eddy walked down a hallway brancing off of his office and Brett trailed behind, flustered. He brought the violinist into a curtained room with mirrors on all its walls. Dresses and suits more expensive than anything Brett owned stood on stands, and in the centre, Eddy's unfinished masterpiece. 

It stood tall and proud, and beside it crumpled up on the floor was another piece. To Brett it looked just as magnificent.

"Here it is. I think it'll suit you beyond anything else. Ignore the mess.. I worked late last night." Eddy smiled. 

He wouldnt admit why. He wouldnt admit that after he had gotten off to Bretts music he sprinted down the hallways of his building in his black silken nightclothes and kneeled in this same curtain room for hours, ripping his showstopper off the stand and leaving it crumpled on the floor. It wasnt 'Brett Yang' enough. Not even close. Not near stunning enough for him, he worked for hours. He didnt sleep, not at all. Only returned to his room to be 'woken' so his security guards wouldnt worry. 

Eddy observed every reaction. Brett examined the clothing and shrugged.   
"Okay." He said. 

_You teasing bastar-!_

Eddy bit his lip. Okay? Just okay? Lord. He internally panicked but didnt allow it to escape. The enigma that stood before him just called his most ambitious piece ever simply, ' _okay_ '

The CEO helped Brett into the outfit. It was a completely translucent suit made of see through lace he was provided with a white bodysuit to wear underneath that was opaque, as there was no way he was wearing boxers under this outfit. Eddy politely looked away but the room was walled in mirrors, so he peeked at the other dressing either way. He was not of model body type. He was regular, long torso even though his height was quite small. Eddy blushed, his heart fluttered like a crushing teen.

  
He turned once Brett was in the high necked bodysuit. Helping him into the next piece. His skin flaring each time Brett would lose his balance, and grasp onto him toughly on instinct. The suit was completely on then. It was slimming and hung against Bretts skin the silhouette made him look much taller along with the slightly heeled white and gold intricate boots Eddy had picked out a placeholder for the time being. There were some small fit issues he saw which could be fixed.

"Okay now the next part, you ready?" The designer asked.

"There's a next part?" Brett groaned.

 _Awh_. 

"Of course there is, Bretty. You cant get away just with a suit, this isnt nineteen ninety people need something new." Eddy chuckled and pulled a long flowing cape of about five foot extra when it hit the floor. It clipped around Bretts shoulders. It was heavy. 

" _Shit_." Brett stumbled a little under the weight of the material. He just wasnt used to it. He was used to being uncomfortable on a stage with his cockroach tail performance jacket, and bowtie.. but this was a new level. 

"Theres more, Brett." Eddy chimed, enjoying the annoyance his voice put on the others face. He pulled out a corset looking thing that went over the suit, making the jackets tails go back behind him. Eddy pulled the drawstring ribbons tight on purpose first to check his fit, they could loosen from there. Brett cried out in a way Eddy certainly didnt expect. He wasnt hurt it was just uncomfortable and knocked the wind out of him.  
Brett felt like he could die on the spot right then.

"Brett.. buy me a dinner first, hey? That sounded straight from a porn-" 

"Shut up, it was just sudden!" Brett snapped.

Nobody would dare to do that. Especially not someone Eddy had met the previous day. He had enough money and power to ruin Bretts entire life... or _bless_ it.

He smiled. Their synergy was evident. Eddy was open and witty. Sly with tricks up his sleeve. Brett was upfront but quiet. He kept himself hidden but would occasionally be coerced to show himself. 

The new model stood still as Eddy's nimble fingers tied the bows in the back of the drawn piece. Brett prayed that'd be it but of course it wasnt. 

Eddy disappeared in a walk in wardrobe section of the room, specifically for jewellery and Brett observed himself in the mirrors. He looked like some kind of fairytale prince. He felt.. fancy. This was hellishly uncomfortable and his posture was beyond bad, but he felt he'd never have another chance to wear something worth more than all his belongings combined. His eyes followed Eddy as he returned. The man was tall, and mysterious. Brett examined him. He wondered his motive for being so flirtatious and friendly, he'd heard all millionaires were assholes. 

Eddy took Bretts hand and lifted it up.  
"Your hands are little. You're sure you can play piano?" 

Bretts eyes shot up in aggitation.   
..Wait a damn second.

"..How do you know I play piano? I didnt tell you that, Weirdo."

Eddy chuckled. He took several rings with chains conected each finger loosely out of the box. Crystals lined each one. Beautiful amethyst with geode accents and gold painted on by hand. These rings alone were one of Eddys prized possessions.

"My business is worth ten billion dollars Brett. Im worth a good chunk of that, being its namesake and all. They cant let any random person meet with me without a background check. Makes sense hey?"   
The taller man was still smiling, small pieces of elegant lace fell over Bretts hands from the sleeves. The jewlery glinted even from underneath the lace.

Brett felt as if he was in the presence of royalty. That really humbled him. He went quiet. 

Eddy noticed pretty quickly, he ran the back of his larger hand up Bretts side flirtatiously. Brett squeaked, he was ticklish of course. He turned around to face Eddy, the cape turned and got twisted.   
He tripped.  
Crashing into the ground and preparing to fall on his face. He didnt put his hands out to save himself because if those rings got damaged, he'd be in for it. He braced for impact. Falling down suddenly off of the lit up and raised platform in the centre of the room.

 _The impact never came_.

His arms hung over Eddys shoulders as the latter lost his own footing and took the brunt of the fall on his knees, one arm grasped Bretts waist and the other went to the floor to avoid them crashing backwards together. He found the floor... unfortunately he also found his sewing kit under his palm.

That hurt like _fuck_.

He let out only a small grunt, even so. He was composed. Just glad he had saved Brett from harm. They sat there for a second. Both astounded and slightly banged up, until Brett figured he should stand, so he did. Getting his bearings. 

"Eddy.. uh- _thank you_." He spoke softly but his gratitude was enough to help Eddy who slowly got off of his knees ignore the pain he was feeling from his hand.

"You're welcome. Im glad you arent hurt, I was worried." Eddy chuckled and lifted his arm. 

Blood was running down his fingers and hand congealling in his palm he had placed his hand right down on a few needles and seam cutters. The sharp blades meant for cutting fabric immediately dug into his skin slicing whatever they reached. His suit was stained.

Bretts eyes went wide and he glanced down at the bloody sewing kit and up at Eddy and back down again.

"Oh fuck..! Wait here, ill get someone. shit." Brett swore, running out of the room in the most expensive piece this company has ever made as if it was nothing.

  
The cloak dragged along the floor, Brett didnt care if it got dirty. He shouted down the hall at Angela to call a doctor. She would hear. But in the meantime.. Brett figured out it wasnt smart to shout down the hallway of a building of prestigious fashion designers and people worth more than he ever was. He was grabbed roughly by a security guard and his arm twisted behind his back. The much more strong man than him forced him down onto the floor and held his arm as he spoke into an intercom he wore on his shirt. Brett breathed heavily. This suit wasnt good for his circulation, he swore.

"You Idiot, Eddy is hurt, he fell and put his hand on a sewing kit and he needs first aid assistance right now, I dont know how to stitch wounds or bandage people, so you need to do it, asshole!" Brett shouted.

This was unlike him.. but it was urgent. The man seemed scared enough at the posibility that his boss, Mr. Chen could be hurt in his care, enough to let Brett go and sprint down to him, grabbing a first aid kit for emergencies on the way. Brett picked himself up.

Why would Eddy do this for him? He thought, as he caught his aching breath. Walking back towards the dressing room slowly. His arm hurt from being twisted so severely by the guard but he understood it was for safety.   
He should've let the musician fall.

Brett opened the curtain slowly. Eddy looked a little lightheaded.. but he was getting helped from the guard who had previously just assaulted Brett in the hallway. The violinists hair was still ruffled and his glasses were askew from the scrap. Once Eddy was suitably patched up the guard came right up in Bretts face and back him into a mirror behind him.

' _You_.'

"Huh..?" Brett asked, he had just got him to help Eddy, right? He had done the right thing.

'How did this happen, exactly. You've hurt Mr. Chen havent you? Not once has he been hurt in this building and suddenly you appear and hes all slashed up? What did you want, to make off with this outfit? The jewellery? What is it, _thief_?'

Brett was speechless. He.. he had just called for help. He wasnt a thief! He was telling the truth!

"I wanted to get help for Eddy." He mumbled. 

The guard gave him a good shove into the wall.  
'Dont call him that, like you're his friend, you're a nobody. Id know you if you were someone worthwhile. I shouldve handcuffed you from that subdue in the hallway.'

"I-.." Brett wheezed. His chest hurt from being shoved around in this outfit.

" _You are fucking_ _**FIRED**_."

  
The voice came, rough and firey and exact. Like some sort of devil. Brett jumped at the sound. The security guard turned around. Eddy was standing up. His bloody bandaged arm hanging down at his side.

'S-Sir, I-'

" _Get your hands off of him._ Now. You. Are. Fired. Ill sue you for clutching him that way, you subdued him in the hallway of my office? Did he hurt you Brett?"  
Eddy spoke and commanded the room. There was a fire in his eyes. Angela brushed the curtain across with a medic who immediately went to Eddy, but he wasnt done, he brushed the doctor off.

"Eddy.. he.. im sure he was just protecting you. It doesnt hurt." Brett said his voice had returned to the normal relaxed timbre. Low and unmoving.   
Eddy came to his side and picked up his arms, examining them, a chain link was broken on his ring, and around his wrist on his left was an angry red mark of another pair of hands. Eddy let him go ever so softly. Turning to the guard.

"This'll be a mistake you'll regret forever. _Get out of my fucking sight._ " He hissed.   
The security seemed terrified. He left the room in a gait that suggested his soul had left his body.  
Eddy caught his breath.

The day went smoothly after that. He was patched up by the medic while Angelas careful hands helped Brett to undress, Eddy did the more private parts one handedly. The two then returned to his office, and sat beside the lit fire in two armchairs.

"Brett.. I apologise for today.. Ive caught you up in something you werent prepared for." Eddy near whispered. Pouring them both ice tea. They got comfortable, sitting opposite eachother like kings of rivalling kingdoms.

Brett examined Eddys careful grip. His eyes, the curvature of his face. His hair pushed back, wire rimmed glasses glinting darkly in the lighting.

"Why'd you do that for me, _Eddy_?" He asked, tilting his head a little, curiosity peaked. Leaning his chin on his hand. 

Eddy was a little stunned by the question. But that only remained for a second. He was too clever at these games to be caught out and flustered by such a question. 

"Brett, with those little hands you honestly think you could've caught yourself? You needed someone to be your knight in shining armour." He bit back, his voice tinted red in challenge and interest peaked. His smirk was evident and eyes slightly dark.

"I could've caught myself. You just wanted to hold my waist." Brett said, so confidently even Eddy could mistake it for fact. 

He had more _bite_ than Eddy could have ever guessed. Always the quiet ones are the most sly. 

"There was no guarantee of that. I cant ignore a handsome prince in distress. Getting to hold you was only a bonus." 

And just like that, the two started their game of chess. Each offering the other some flirtatious remark or look, even in body language. Their conversation continued. 

_Who will break first?_   
A quiet, temperate violinist with a flirtatious tongue for tricking? Or an extravagant millionaire CEO, with eyes that hid it all, and the nerve to say whatever he wanted and get away with it?

"You look nervous, _Brett_."   
A questioning look and sly grip of his tea cup, a ruby ring glinting in the firelight. 

" _Never_."  
Hair falling over black rimmed glasses, hiding any ounce of excitedness. Teeth ready to bite back straight away.   
"Im glad you didnt hurt your knees when you caught me. You're quite skinny after all."

Skinny?  
.. _cheeky little_ -

"If i'm skinny, then you must be wasting away. I could put my index finger and thumb around your wrist and touch them together. So dainty and delicate, I almost thought I could break you, if I was too.. _rough_."

Eddys words were carefully timed and enunciated. Like knives designed to sink in deep. Surely Brett Yang couldnt come back from that one.

"Dont worry, _sir_.-" he began. A low tone speaks and fingers softly trace down his own neck. Grazing the skin. Eddys eyes followed with intent, he was invested in one of Bretts tricks. The violinist popped open his top button with delicate fingers.

"I wont break."   
ah, an anticlimax-

"But I might _break you.._ if that's what you want." Brett whispered in such a way that the hairs on the nape of Eddys neck stood at end. His voice was deep and dipped in satin.   
They were in a seductive Tango, and Brett had just bound Eddy up and silenced him with his carefully placed word.   
Brett stood and leant down standing between Eddy's slightly open legs. Pushing them apart more by his presence. The millionaires flushed red face gave Brett all the satisfaction in the world. Upon now closer inspection of Eddy's face, he could see that the other really hadn't slept last night. His undereyes were dark. 

"How many times did you listen to my recording?" Brett asked, hearing a whimper die in Eddys throat, so it didn't escape, they were too close for him to miss that. He raised his eyebrows inching closer every second, until the air between them was shared. 

The musician was close to him. Very. He felt like this was risky... but he didnt care.  
He brushed their faces against eachother and leaned in to whisper in Eddy's ear, he let his hand wander to the seated males chest. Parting his suit jacket and ghosting a finger across his stomach. 

  
"What did the music make you do, Eddy.. _sir_?" He jeered barely even a whisper. Practically inaudible. 

That was enough, Eddy couldnt take it anymore. He had to take back a little of his pride. He couldnt let Brett domineer him this easily. So he pushed back. They would fight for it. Eddy grasped Bretts hips and flipped him around quickly before he could protest bending him over the limb of his own armchair and pinning him there. He was glad of his height advantage. 

The two went on like this. Fighting for power over the other gracefully like a dance. Clothing was discarded slowly but surely as a new victor came to light. They were sweating after an hour of this. Lips and bodies kissed red and purple, passion had heated up the room. They both seemed determined to be the one.. on top. They were so balanced, one equal to the other, but different. They had dragged eachother over to a satin couch on the other side of the room. Sparks flew in their midst.   
Eddy had his hands on Bretts bare hips, pushing his boxers down a little as he kissed him roughly, their glasses clinking together and falling off. Brett smirked against the others lips. Finally, his chance to end this, a clever plan.  
He pulled away from Eddy. 

"Eddy, look!" He cried, feigning embarrassment so well that Eddy swung around, he thought Angela had walked in. Brett grasped the other around the waist and pulled him onto his lap, bringing his open palm to Eddy's neck, his head tilted back on instinct.

"Damn you, Brett Yang. You tricked me." Eddy whispered, strained as his head was tilted this way, his back also arched inwards softly. He could feel Bretts excitement through his boxers, pressed flush against his ass. 

Brett would continue to strip them both naked. They moved in synchronicity as the room darkened. Eddys skin was sunkissed by the dusk light getting in through gaps in the curtains.   
They made do with the office which wasnt equipped for such heinous acts to be preformed in it. 

For a ' _delicate_ ' violinist, in Eddys word, he certainly wasnt this way in bed. 

He left Eddy yelping out and mewling desperately in his path of destruction. Humilated but too turned on to care. Splayed over his own desk was the final destination where Eddy was deflowered by Brett Yang. Gripping the overhanging edge of the glass in his elegantly carved table his blueprints were flung off of the table in a flurry. Spiralling and spreading across the floor. Eddy's breath fogged up the glass holding him up, he was panting like some kind of animal. 

He'd never been dominated like this in the past. Never. Brett was infinite, unique. He was sure he would never experience something such as this ever again. 

It took another long time for the both of them to finish. Brett was groaning and his low moans resonated in Eddy's ear, his own eyes rolled back, at the peak of the moment. Brett pulled from the heat of his 'employer' and sat in the swivelling chair behind the desk to catch his breath. 

Eddy was loose and malleable like play-doh. His whole body was numb and he was splayed like a ragdoll across his desk, only wearing his socks which somehow remained on in the flurry. Brett pulled his boxers on and stood, smiling at the carnage he'd left behind and crouching in front of the desk where Eddy's head was laid.   
The musician picked up the square rimmed, silver glasses from where they had fell on the floor, and slid them onto the bridge of Eddy's nose and behind his ears. 

"I won, hey?" Bret smiled from ear to ear, he was beyond proud of himself.

" _Shut up_." Eddy murmured against his desk. What a week this would be.. his life was infiltrated by an influence beyond his control, in the form of this seemingly normal musician.

 _You are much more than you seem, Brett Yang_. _Just you wait till ive figured you out_.


	2. II

The week passed in many fittings and alterations. Brett was used to wearing the high fashion piece at this point, though he would still grumble when he put it on, to Eddy's amusement. By day they would work on Brett's runway walk with a professional. A slim lady with nordic features. White blonde hair and piercing eyes. She was a ballet teacher and was quite strict on Brett to be as graceful as he could possibly be. He was taught to walk in a straight line, turn and walk back. It was much more complicated than it sounded. It took hundreds of walks to perfect.

By night, Brett would return home exhausted but something kept him excited for the next day. Eddy would trudge up to his office and undress, laying in his soft, king sized bed and playing Bretts recording, fantasizing of his smell and the feeling of his hands, his soft skin and the glint in his eye, doing such sinful things alone to the thought of his understudy. Eddy was powerful enough to have anything in the world.

But _all_ he wanted was Brett Yang. 

It was Tuesday, the week of the show. Eddy sat behind the table he'd been so easily defiled on the previous week. It almost tortured him to sit here. His mind always wandered back to that day. His door buzzer rang on the reciever.

"Good Morning Brett."   
He was ready with it.

Brett walked in and closed the door behind him. He had two bubble tea's in hand. Placing one down on Eddy's side of he table, and keeping one for himself. 

"Morning, Eddy. I got it on the way." He hummed. His hair was a little fluffy, probably from the static of sleeping bundled in blankets, Eddy didnt have that problem, silk pillows didnt conduct static so well.   
Brett had something else in his lap too. A paper, a newspaper to be exact that he left on the desk for Eddy to have a look at.

'New Model for Esteem show revealed?' Was the title. It was a picture taken only late two days ago of Eddy, and a tall, brunette female in a flowing black dress from the outside of a building they were in. 

Eddy smiled.   
Brett didnt look amused, Eddy knew but it didnt show on the shorters face. Yet he could feel the jealousy radiate from the other side of the table. _Oh, Brett_. 

"Who's that?" The musician asked, concealing the seething jealousy.

"I meet with many models around shows to throw the tabloid newspapers off of the scent off of my real piece. They'd realise eventually that you were leaving my office everyday at the same time. You dont think im being an infidel behind your back, do you?" Eddy explained. He could feel the tension ease in Bretts mind.

  
Though to any other he would have been completely unreadable, Eddy had his way with Brett that nobody else had. They were joined at the hip, not physically so, but they understood eachothers energy.

"Okay, Eddy." The Violinist said, he closed his lips around his bubble tea straw and savoured the milky taste. Chewing the pearls.   
The two sat in eachothers presence, enjoying their drinks for a while, their hands drifting closer where they rested on the table until Eddy had his over Bretts.

"You're cold." He murmured.

"I know." Brett hummed. "My mom always said I have cold hands because I have a warm heart." 

She's Right, Eddy thought. They pulled apart once the door rang once again a man in a suit walked in and up to Eddy, past Brett and not even acknowledging his being there. The man leaned down and whispered something to Eddy. Brett watched the reaction but Eddy just continued smirking, like always. 

"Alright. Tell them ill be down in a minute, seat them and get drinks, meeting room two, alright?" Eddy instructed, and the room was vacated by the stranger again.

  
Eddy turned to Brett.  
"Some opposition models and designers are here to discuss our pieces. I plan on keeping my act a secret, I always do and people always come to try and trick it out of me." The fashionista stood and walked to Bretts side of the desk. It was awkward timing but, Brett would just have to come with. 

  
"Okay." Brett nodded.

Always with the short answer. He really was an enigma. He was helped out of his seat and Eddy led him out of the room and down the hall. Grabbing a suit jacket prototype out of a room and getting Brett to put it on, as well as a tie. This was a formal meeting after all, you couldnt show up in just a shirt and pants. 

Eddy was handed papers on the way past an office and he read over them so quickly, Brett was impressed at the sight of him. He followed close behind. They steppped into a room with a round meeting table. Women and men of various stature and exuberant clothing sat around it. They all seemed much older than Eddy. 

"Good Morning, all of you. Its good to meet you again." Eddy announced, giving a little courtesy as he walked in, Brett was out of his depth. The net worth of people in this room was probably beyond a number he could imagine. Eddy sat at the head of the table. Brett sat at his immediate right. The room was all marble and crystaline. A large screen for presentations was behind them, above their heads. Brett kept his eyes down.

'Good Morning, Mister Chen, you look better than you ever have. Excited for the show this weekend, are you?' A lady asked. 

"Beyond excited Eveline. This may be my most impressive piece yet." Eddy chuckled and rolled back in his chair a little. He seemed so relaxed. 

Brett wondered how they all referred to him so formally, yet he just pulled out their first names?

'Thats incredible, we're glad to hear it im sure. Who are you modelling this year? Ray did a great job for you last year. The reaction was incredible.' An older male in an emerald green suit asked. 

Brett shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"Ah well, Gabriel.." Eddy began. He was smiling and spoke with such languid tongue. "Un Ange." He said, ' _An angel',_  
_"..le ciel sera avec nous ce jour-là_." 

Heaven will be with us that day. 

Brett looked over at Eddy, since when could you speak french? But most of the veteran designers understood. You had to be universal to survive in this business. 

They seemed stunned and determined to Brett as he read their faces. Determined to show Eddy up at his own game. The meeting went smoothly from that point. Eddy gave many hints, only a few were accurate. By the end of the meeting even Brett was concerned some kind of female would be wearing a blue diamond dress on the runway, he had completely thrown them off. The only true things he said were trivial, the model played violin 'with grace and humility' according to Eddy. His pick also had 'bad eyesight, blind as a bat, I'm surprised they can even walk in a straight line.' 

_Thanks_ , Eddy. 

They stood up and shook the hands of the people, saying their goodbyes.   
They turned to leave first, being closest to the door but turned back at a voice.

'Id almost believe it was him, Eddy!' The original lady spoke again. 'You seemed so.. séduisant, when you looked at him.'

 _Seductive_.

She was pointing at Brett, and Eddy hid it all behind that beautiful façade of his. He hadnt realised he was glancing at Brett with such intent, but she had. 

'Now now, we cant be spreading _rumours_. A romance in the workplace always makes the tabloids, Eveline, before it even goes public.' Eddy chuckled, patting Bretts shoulder and guiding him out of the room.

The two recovered in Eddy's office, slumping onto his couch. 

"Do you think she knows its me?" Brett asked carefully. 

"No. Even if she did she wouldnt blab. Too much to risk spreading that story for her reputations sake." Eddy was drinking the bubble tea Brett had gifted him. He groaned in satisfaction of its flavour, his eyes fluttering shut. 

_So good_.

Brett smiled, and carefully placed his hand on Eddy's knee. Feeling the way he involuntarily twitched. The two sat together, bathed in the warmth of the room and a record player spinning Saint-Saens, the swan. 

Eddy was the integral piece of an empire. He held the fate of his Business on his shoulders. He held the fate of power and money on his back, but stayed ever so calm in such high pressure situations where Brett would just crumble.   
Little did Brett know that Eddys only weakness was him, Brett Yang. Little did he know Eddy took himself apart at night, feverish and addicted to the thought of him. The sound of his recording muffled the salacious noise Eddy made. Tormented by the thought of Bretts taste and scent.

Brett was a pure bred classical musician. He had dealt with many hardships in life, college costs and the difficulty of finding gigs still haunted him, but he stayed resilient and never let anything break him down. Little did Eddy Chen know, He was Bretts only soft spot in return. He knew nothing of how Brett put on his interviews at night, when he missed the others voice. How he fell asleep to the relaxed lull of his voice and his charm. How he dreamt of that evening their shared together and woke up in hot sweats.

The two were yearning for eachother in secrecy. Evening came. They stayed in place. Quietly chatting, Eddy neglected his business duties for the day in favour of interacting with Brett. It was almost ten by the time they realised how long they'd been talking. The sky was darkening. Brett got up and said goodbyes for the day. He grabbed his glasses and was half out the door, when Eddy broke the silence.

"Brett. Stay with me tonight." He blurted out.

"Huh?" Brett turned back to him. 

"Stay with me tonight. A sleepover. Would you like to?" Eddy asked more confidently. 

  
He had already embarrassed himself, now he just had to finesse it as if he meant to say that out loud. He really hadnt. An image of Bretts sleepy expression at midnight just came into his head, and he had accidentally let his tongue slip from the fantasy. 

" _Okay_."

 _Is that really your catchphrase Brett? Not any squealing or running into his arms. You are a tough one to crack_ , Eddy thought.

"Follow me, then." He said, relaxed on the outside.. but heart racing inside.

  
Eddy took Bretts hand and led him up the hall. Into the elevator, they stood side against side. Eyes glancing occasionally at parts of eachother. They went to the top floor. Eddy put the code into his door. Guiding Brett to his bedroom, two walls of this room were completely glass, and there was a beautiful balcony offshoot. He rang the phone next to his bed.

"Bring some cocktails up here, yes- multiple. Two. Yes- I have a guest staying over." He spoke and returned the phone to the hook. He never had company.

Brett had exited to the tiled balcony. He was holding the glass railing and leaning against it. His hair was flitted in the night wind. Eddy just watched. He looked so... free. So uninterrupted. It looked like he could control nature. Eddy was convinced this short Violinist wasnt of this world. He was something else entirely. He turned once he was ready, and came back into Eddy. Out there _alone_ , Brett seemed like he was in an alternate reality _entirely_. 

But this was the real world. And he was now peering around Eddy's room. Taking in the decor and objects around. Some things were interesting. Like a piano in the corner of the room. But Bretts eyes lingered on an open laptop. It remained on and clearly had been all day and maybe night as well. A picture of him was opened on it, not a picture.. a video. The video of his playing Eddy had asked for. 

Had Eddy really done something to the sound of his music? He thought back to their time, heaving and panting. _Together_.

>   
>  _'How many times did you listen to my recording?' Brett asked._  
>  _A whimper died in Eddy's throat._

  
Brett remembered the sound, vivid and _desperate_. The way it didnt escape Eddy, the way he tried to hide it. 

"Brett..!" Eddy half shouted. He was waving a hand in front of Bretts face with hilarity in his features. 

"What?" Brett asked, smacking his hand down softly.   
Eddy chuckled at him.

"Back to the land of the living are we? Must be thinking about something interesting, hey?" 

Oh _Eddy,_ Just imagine you knew. 

"Nah. Just lost my train of thought. Your place is so big, maybe its just getting used to it." Brett shrugged. 

The pair were interrupted by the door buzzing. Two cocktails were served to Eddy at the door. He handed one to Brett and thanked the housekeeper. They went out to the balcony and drank. Ice jingling against the edge of the glass. It was strong alcohol like nothing Brett had ever had in the past. Of course it was different, it was expensive. Only the best for Mister Chen and his 'mysterious guest'

They spoke about old times. Brett spoke about his time in Music University. How he didnt necessarily enjoy it all but he did his best. Eddy told Brett about how his dream became a reality. How he made prom clothing for girls in his school, and that was the first money he ever really earned. 

They retired to Eddy's bed when it was too cold out there in the night. 

"Eddy..?" Brett questioned. Sitting at the edge of his bed.

"Yeah, Brett?" He answered, hanging up his jacket to be washed. Taking his shoes off.

"How many times _did_ you listen to my recording _?_ " 

Oh _No_. Eddy froze up a little. He was thankful he was facing the other way. His face flushed deep red. By instinct males were protective of their secrets. They were territorial of their space when their cover was blown Eddy didnt turn around. 

"A few times." He said, his voice was lower. He was protecting his secret.

Brett watched as Eddy removed his clothing, all but his boxers, and pulled a red silk nightgown around himself and tied it at his waist. It was deathly silent. Quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The tension could be cut with a _knife_.

  
Eddy turned around with those dark foxlike eyes. Clever and observing. For the second time ever, they both slipped into their game. The world around them became non-reality. The only two that existed was them. 

"That silk looks expensive." Brett smiled. Eddy cursed his cuteness, and ability to easily deter his attention. Not this time _Brett Yang._

The taller aproached him. Feeling confident this time. He would not lose again. He had the upper hand. He backed Brett up until he was laying flat on his bed. The silken sheets hugged his clothed body. He was still in a suit after all. His hair was toussled by the shuffling, his glasses stayed on. Eddy had dreamt of this exact view. 

"Eddy- you cant hold me like that, its unfair. You're taller than me." Brett groaned. 

He hadnt even noticed, he was holding Bretts wrists up above his head. But he didnt let go.

"You look.. _so_ beautiful like this. I dreamt of this moment." Eddy snickered. Leaning in close to Bretts neck. 

"I win.. hey?" He purred. Copying what Brett had told him the last time they had been this close.

  
That started off the night. Brett found himself stunned and at a significant disadvantage from the get go. Eddy undressed him slowly. He seemed to enjoy himself, planting soft kisses everywhere. Making sure his marks would last. Brett was usually quiet but he found it hard containing himself in this certain situation. Eddy kept talking. Kept praising him, kept calling him lovely names.. he was addicted. Every minute Eddy wasnt addressing him he was in a withdrawal. His head spun. 

Eddy was careful with his prey. He took it slowly.. achingly so. Deflowering his model was a careful act he wouldnt do halfway. Brett looked almost sleepy when he was turned on, Eddy would come to learn. His cheeks would flush pink and his eyes would follow Eddy's movement loosely. Half lidded and persuasive. He was chewing his bottom lip.

"E-Eddy?" He would ask. His voice was faint, he was so gentle. 

"Yeah?"  
There was a minute of silence, Where Eddy gently stroked Bretts thighs, a little fixated.

"...Be rough, _please_." The words were a little surprising.

> _How could he.. how could Brett tell?_

Eddy was holding back. He was afraid of damaging Brett. He loved him too much, but he couldnt bare that voice.. begging, something broke in him. He wouldnt keep it contained, for Bretts enjoyment. they spent little more time preparing and Eddy was certainly more rough. He pulled the drawstring from his nightgown and slipped it off of his shoulders. There was a comfortable silence between them, that is until it was broken by their sinful verses. 

Brett was certainly not quiet anymore thats for sure. He seemed to finally be beyond caring what sound he made. 

_"Oh, Eddy..!"_

He called, his fingers dug into the others shoulder blades. Eddy moved them into a different position. Bretts face was pressed against the sheets, his back arched inwards. Eddy held his wrists and Rocked them roughly in an intense rhythm.

The air was getting warm and heavy around them. Its safe to say, they didnt last much longer. Brett was shuddering softly by the time they were finished. His hair stuck up every which way. Pieces were covering his eyes, and still, his glasses stayed on. Though they had fallen to his mid cheek on one side, having slipped off of his ear. 

The pair collapsed against eachother under the weighted sheets, naked. Eddy barely had it in him to pull Brett in to his side under the covers. They cuddled close. Legs all tangled together. Eddy kissed Brett to sleep. Morning wasnt long to come. The sun pierced the windows. They were so warm though, that neither of them had the heart to sit up, at least for another while.


	3. III

* * *

Eddy roused Brett out of bed. Bringing him to the kitchen and making waffles in a press for the both of them. Eddy watched as the dark haired male ate. He was deathly silent. Like a ghost. His gave off this absolute calm, the breeze from an open window fluttered the loose shirt he had thrown on that wasnt his. They sat and ate until they were full.

"I have no clothes here, Eddy." Brett murmured around his straw. 

Eddy raised his eyebrows.

"Are you forgetting this is a fashion firm? The whole building is full of clothes." He said, smiling. But Brett didnt look satisfied.

"They're too fancy for me. I want something casual for the flight." He said. Eddy understood that, he supposed.

Though he couldnt underdress, even for comfort, he was the CEO after all. He stood up and called an intern to the door over the phone. Asking them to fetch him a number of collections and thanking them.

He returned to the doorway of the room Brett was sitting in. He was standing on the balcony again. It was cold up here, but he didnt seem to care, in just boxers and an open button shirt, he gripped the railing until he was white knuckled. Eddy was about to go out to him, his hand was on the door slider, until Brett leaned over the fence and shouted something at the sky. Eddy stepped back. 

The violinists head was low. His breathing was heavy. There was something pent up in him keeping him from expressing himself, it was all coming to fruition. Blooming in his chest. Spreading its plague in his lungs.  
He had closed off in the hard years of uni. He had been alone. Living day by day with nobody by his side. Nobody to tell him good morning, or kiss him goodnight. He was shaking with rage, and fear, and frustration.. and cowardice.

"..you're so fucking _stupid_! Open up to him, you love him..! Admit it, admit it, admit it! He's just Eddy! Just embarrass yourself already and get it over with..! _FUCK_..! _I love you Eddy..!"_

He called into nothingness. His voice echoed. His blood boiled in his veins. He was standing there longer than he expected, he had lost track of the seconds. The minutes. Time had stopped around him.

Eddy wished he didnt have soundproofing in the glass. His eyes were wide, sparkling with dewy emotion. That was passion. He had never seen anyone do something so passionately. So much built up. He was completely put aback. Staring into Bretts determined eyes. The glass seperated them. They were from different worlds, they would always be seperated if a bridge wasnt built between them. Eddys hand shook as he slid the door open. 

His hands _never_ shook before. Not even when sewing for the first time. Not even when he went to funerals.

"..Brett?.. is something wrong?" Eddy hazarded. The musician had this strange look on his face. It wasnt his usual, indifferent smize. It was full of emotion, spilling from all of his features.

_Claire de Lune played on the radio._

Brett Yang crossed the threshold into Eddys space, he bridged the gap and there was no going back. No returning to his lonely life. He wouldnt be a ghost anymore, not once he said the words. His symphony would finally have its melody, or all would be lost. It all hung in the balance. His tone was ethereal, like nothing was truly real, only the clouds and the birds, flying high overhead. 

> "Eddy. I need to tell you something."

_im afraid, eddy._   
_im terrified, you wont feel the same._

The glass underneath them shattered. They were falling, together, embracing in this deathly risk. Hand in hand, the air rushed past. Eyes closed. Fates intertwined.

> "Yeah?"

_dont be afraid. im afraid too._   
_afraid you'll leave me._

They were one, drowning under the surface of murky water in a forest somewhere, completely detatched from reality.

> "I think I love you. And I cant bear it anymore."

Eddy's eyes shot open. He was drenched in freezing cold water. Back to real time. Brett was the same, his fingers dug into his cheek, awaiting a response, he jumped when he felt something push him, but he wasnt pushed.. he was held, lifted half off of his feet. 

"I know I love you too, Brett Yang." Eddy chuckled. He held the smaller male tight, he physically felt Brett start to breathe again. 

Time passed. A lot of it. The two coexisting in a blur. They hadnt been seperated by even four feet since that mornings events. They were attatched at the hip. Brett had been dressed in Eddy's clothing his shirt was much too big, but it looked as if it was intentional, and Eddy wore his own, too. 

They were moved quickly. They only had the time to stop at Bretts home for one thing, his Violin. Eddy watched as the houses went by. The address was a rather drab apartment block. The paint was peeling off of the walls. Brett rushed and rang the bell to be let in. His housemate, another musician in the local orchestra brought his instrument to the door. 

Eddy embraced him when he returned to the car. They held eachother in the airports luxury bar. They held eachother on the private plane, craddling glasses of champagne between them.   
Those three words were repeated more that day than they ever had been in either of the two's lives. 

_i love you, Brett._   
_i love you too, Eddy._

The flight had crossovers, it was twenty one hours. But in the early hours of the morning on runway day, they arrived. Together, and ready. Brett was to walk well behind Eddy until they arrived to the venue, and he wore sunglasses and a camera around his neck to disguise himself as press. Eddy looked so confident. He strode with no hesitancy and smiled into the cameras that flashed around him. He didnt flinch when reporters shouted questions in his face. He didnt get angry. He was a real millionaire in disposition. Brett was slipped in the back way.   
It hurt to be separated from Eddy at such a time of tension, even for a moment. He was whisked away to the models room. His head was spinning. These people were perfect. Tall and slim. So fragile they could be shattered like glass. Brett didnt have a hope of seeing what Eddy saw in him, a clumsy musician with no defining features. He was brought to hair and makeup first. He had been through this in practice but he still didnt enjoy it. He had hairspray and certain gels he would never understand put in his hair, as well as lots of glitter that only showed in stagelight and camera flashes. They didnt do too much makeup, but did give him white eyeliner on his top lid, and black blended underneath his waterline, as well as highlight. He was then guided by a stylist to the dressing rooms. A curtain was pulled back.

"You look amazing already."

"Eddy!" 

Brett ran into his arms, narrowly avoiding messing up his makeup, or Eddys outfit that looked... very expensive. Red and black silken suit with a tie that had the notes opening to the Mendelssohn concerto hand sewn on. Eddy sent the stylist out of the room for a while, and held Bretts hands.. calming his nerves.

"Its time to get dressed, Brett. Last call is soon." Eddy whispered, and the musician nodded. He was ready. 

  
Eddy, like all the time. Helped Brett to dress. It was almost a therapeutic experience for the both of them by this point. Each part was applied and Brett groaned like he always did. It gave them both a laugh. Eddy tied the others ribbons like always, and zipped up his boots. Tying the cape which fastened around his shoulders. 

Brett looked angelic with his whole look together. He would stun everyone. Eddy was confident they'd all be blown away. An intercom sparked into life.

'Can all models and their sponsors come to back centre stage, the show is about to begin.' 

The two heard, and squeezed eachothers hands before departing down a dark hallway and seperating again. All they could do now was pray, that everything would finally come together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last :)


	4. IV

The lights went low. Thousands of living eyes stared at the opening to the runway, it was smooth, black andwas surrounded by screens to display the themes and visuals chosen by the design team to go with the walk. Brett, eager but terrified checked the schedule. He knew he'd be cued by the stagehand but, he wanted to check when he'd come in. His eyes glanced down the list quickly.. where..

  
 _Oh_.

He was going on last. The finale. As if this whole situation wasnt terrifying enough. It was going quite slowly. People moved in and out of the backstage, Brett didnt even catch their faces, which ended up to be a horrible thing.

The models, mostly female all glared at him with such jealously and intent, he almost felt threatened, and rightly so. They were sharing a little too loud conversation about how Eddy Chen let just any nobody model for his brand. Brett felt like shouting. He snapped at them quietly to 'shut the fuck up' after it lasted just a bit too long. 

'What wrong, you arent fucking him, are you, shorty?' One of the particularly snivvly women in a black dress snorted.   
'Yeah, dumbass. Stop looking at us like that. You're a nobody in this building. Just some lucky peasant Eddy picked up off of the street.'

Brett was silent. He bit his bottom lip hard, it was bleeding he realised, after a while. The models seemed to realise his frustration and gasp all together.

'Eddy Chen fucks you? No wonder he let you be his runway boy, I mean, you dont look one. You look more like his math tutor.' The girl added.   
_That was it._  
Brett couldnt take their condescending remarks, he stormed out of the room, leaving their comments behind. He sprinted down the hall. Boots clicking on the tile, he felt tears rush into his eyes. Eyeliner smearing across his face. The thought of that didnt even come to his mind though. He just went to the luggage room, and right there, passing lots of people on the way. Fifteen minutes. He had fifteen minutes to calm the fuck down. 

He picked up a peculiarly shaped case. It was his violin. He had brought it to play for Eddy at the after party. He took it out, and with such will, determination, and the grit of a warrior, he began to play. His crescendo of breath began to calm down. His bowing became gentle from ravenous. Shostakovich as he played it became more careful and accurate as he relaxed.

_Ten minutes till the finale._

He put down his instrument. It was uncomfortable to play in this anyway, and he was calm enough. He left the small room and returned to the changing area. He looked in a mirror and realised his state. 

It was a sorroful beauty he was cursed with at this very moment. His eyeliner had ran in such a way that it almost seemed intentional, and his lip was split at the side, he had been biting it repeatedly over the last couple minutes. He lifted his hands from the counter, and even worsening his state, he hadnt realised black eyeshadow powder coated the entire place after all the rushing around. He had black shadows of handprints on his neck and face by the time he realised what he had done.

_Five minutes._

Brett Yang was having the worst time of his life. To him, he looked crazy. Disheveled and hiding in a bathroom stall away from hundreds of thousands of live and televised viewers. He had the regrets of the world on his shoulders, he wanted to crumple up and disappear. His hair had also become a mess at this point.  
When he had the confidence to shakily leave the stall he was greeted by an unwelcome sight, press. Photographers with cameras in tow, he smiled instinctively, though he felt like dying, and to him, he looked it too. A reporter was there who approached him and all he could do was resist breaking down. And he did.

'Oh! How avant-garde! Bonjour le beau!, such sorrow and serenity, we could almost believe its real!'  
A french accented male exclaimed excitedly. Brett didnt have the heart to tell him it was.  
'Who are you modelling today?'  
Brett swallowed and spoke. This was nothing compared to a messed up audition. This was nothing compared to snapping a string in recitals. He inhaled some of his confidence back.

"Classical Couture, A favour for a close amour of mine, Such a tragic and beautiful piece of his own creation. Salut La France!" Brett said, he thought that reply would give enough suspense while being short enough for him to run back to behind the stage.

Two minutes. He posed for many pictures, and was asked many Risqué questions, which he believed he handled well. Clearly everyone thought the mess he was in was absolutely intentional, and he had been blessed. His outfit was luckily still pristine white. He only made it to backstage a minute before he was on. Breathing heavy, he took half the time to relax himself, and the other half ensuring to himself.

_He would prove those idiots wrong._

  
Eddy was sitting in the special rows for designers, may rich people were at his sides, he could almost smell the money from their clothing. Every piece came out, Eddy was only really excited by a few of them, though clearly the designers thought they had brought their best. There was nothing that was.. out there. Just plain dresses and suits, with small changes, slits of skin being visible or a veil or two. Nothing that blew his mind. He sighed, adjusting the green tinted glasses that went with his outfit and checking his watch. Brett would walk out any minute now.

'Has your model come out yet? I never know because you hide it all, Eddy Chen.' He was asked, and he gave a shake of his head.  
"Not yet." He answered shortly. Ever so secretive. Many came to him with business offers and partnerships but he practically ignored them. It came to the second last model. A tall blonde female in a black dress, she had an expression of pride, and spite hidden behind her.   
When she disappeared behind the curtain, the whole room held its breath. All eyes were on that door.

Come _on_ , Brett. You're leagues above these people. 

The display sprung into life. Mendelssohn's violin concerto in E minor came in softly, and slowly became louder. Golden petals and white fluttering wings were paraded on the large screen, and the curtain opened. Brett stepped out. A gasp was shared by many, Eddy could hear his seat neighbour, a billionaire, give a little 'wow' under his breath. 

Brett's stride was languid, as if he did it so easily. His cloak and hips swayed with the music as he walked, one hand kept gracefully, high on his hip, the other falling at his side. He gave a different aura than he ever has before, especially to Eddy. The music, combined with his sultry walk and... his makeup. Smeared, he wondered what happened, but he didnt care. The whole room was drowning in Brett Yang's excellence, Eddy knew he could trust the other with this. Even though he had come out looking totally different to what was planned, he could make it work. He made everything work. Once he reached the end of the runway he was facing Eddy and the rest of the designers seats head on, he leaned down, with such pornographic charm, he blew a kiss to Eddy and winked. 

_Who on earth taught you to do that?_ Not even the wildest of Models would ever think to give such a gesture on the runway. 

He turned on his heel then, and walked back to the behind-stage. Thunderous applause followed his departure. Eddys heart was racing, his cheeks were cherry red. Brett ran rampant in his head, he had such an ability to be the the most quiet and _erotic_ presence in a room all at once. Eddy barely took it in when his hands were shook by many different people. On the final walk, when all the models returned one last time, Brett outshone them all. Every eye followed him. And then it was over. This journey was at its end, but Eddy and Bretts was just beginning.

Eddy certainly didnt know how Brett had done it, but this had been his most successful show to date. The afterparty was intense. Much alcohol was shared, and the tabloids became drowned in stories. 

'Top designer Eddy Chen has a fairytale romance with a model?' 

Many with titles similar to that, the two had become world renowned but neither admitted their relationship to the public. They just gave hints. Purposefully leaving a trail to be followed.

Only the two of them knew. Their secret bound in red ribbons, their secret hidden under their sheets, in shared cups of tea. In kisses, gentle and sweet. Only they knew the truth and how deep the roots of love connected them both.

**Author's Note:**

> I have more parts of this already written... new updates coming soon ;)
> 
> Will he flop on the runway like he flops into Eddys arms?   
> maybe.   
> I have a drawing of Brett in his runway clothes too... it'll come in the show chapter.


End file.
